


This Space

by PolarisAmane



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, makes you wonder what's the point, no porn either, there's no real plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarisAmane/pseuds/PolarisAmane
Summary: Helena returns late from a retrieval





	This Space

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno... I just wanted to write something comfy.

Myka was not naturally a light sleeper. She wouldn’t personally describe herself as a heavy sleeper either, she had never slept through an alarm in her life, but she certainly didn’t worry about being woken by every bump or creak in the night, which was why it was unusual for her to be stirred from her sleep by the sound of the B&B’s door opening then closing.

She rolled over and rubbed at her eyes, ears straining to hear the movement downstairs. She thought she heard the first thud of a booted foot on the bottom step, the soft murmuring of voices, then silence, more careful footsteps as they ascended the stairs. The boards of the seventh step were loose and would creak when stepped on. She counted when they should have stepped on it, determining if she needed to actually get up and if her gun was necessary. 

Nothing.

She groaned softly and pushed her face into her pillow. This person knew to avoid the creaky step. She smiled and pulled her quilt up to her chin. Helena and Steve had finally returned from their latest retrieval.  
She listened to the sounds of their footsteps across the hallway and their quiet good nights. The bedroom door opened and she heard Helena’s first soft footsteps followed by the door closing.

Myka evened out her breathing, feigning sleep, and listened. Helena put her bag down and then slid it across the floor a step, probably with her foot by the sound of it. She crossed the room to the bathroom and once more Myka heard a door open, the click of the light and the extractor fan whirring to life. The door closed and Myka rolled to her side and opened her eyes.

The bathroom had just popped up one day, completely unexpectedly. Myka wasn’t going to complain, she and Helena having their own bathroom was a godsend, but it had been disconcerting coming home one day to find a whole extra room attached to her bedroom. A little warning would have been nice, that way she wouldn’t have felt like she needed to bag nearly every suspicious looking item in her room. It had also prompted a dinner conversation where Pete wondered what would happen if someone were to be in one of the rooms and it disappeared. “Like what if I was all settled down for The Morning Sit?” Pete had asked, worry edging into his voice. “And then it like just - _poofed!_ \- out of existence and me along with it right in the middle of - I mean that would just be rude.” Myka didn’t like to think too much about Pete’s morning routines but he did have a bit of a point. How had the Warehouse known to give her and Helena their own bathroom? 

The toilet flushed and the old pipes groaned as Helena turned on the tap. 

The light from beneath the bathroom door dimly illuminated the room. She could see Helena’s bag dumped on the floor, her boots next to the bag. She’d been gone for nearly a week. What had meant to be a fairly simple retrieval had turned into a farce. The last contact Myka had had with Helena was yesterday morning, where Helena, looking harried, had quickly called her to assure her that she was still alive and well, and that, yes, she most certainly did have everything under control, and no she most certainly did not need Myka and Pete to fly out and aid them.

The light flicked off and the door opened. Myka squinted into the darkness. She could just about see Helena’s outline, moving through the shadows as she manoeuvred about the room, pulling her shirt off and dropping it to the floor. Myka bit back a sigh of annoyance. There was a laundry basket right there! Helena still acted as though she had a maid to pick up her dirty clothes for her. Helena undressed, dropping all her clothes into a pile. Myka heard a thump followed by a hiss of pain.

“Watch out for the dresser,” Myka mumbled.

“Yes, thank you for the warning.”

Myka chuckled into her pillow. She lifted her head to squint into the darkness, watching as Helena pulled on a pair of Myka’s shorts. Helena always stole Myka’s clothes for sleeping in and never managed to wear a full set of pyjamas, not even in winter where she would complain about being cold. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her back to Myka.

“You’re late.” Myka rolled towards her. In the dim light she could easily see the curve of Helena’s back, could count each bump of her spine beneath her pale skin.

“Arguably early.”

“No, you’re late. You could have called and told me you were coming back.”  
Helena hunched her shoulders, her head falling forward. She blew out a breath. “We were supposed to catch a later flight but managed to arrange for something earlier.” She sounded weary. “I didn’t want you to wait up.”

“Why not? I probably wouldn’t have anyway.” She rolled over and retrieved her phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen. It was just past three. She wouldn’t have purposefully waited up but it was likely that she wouldn’t have slept either knowing that Helena was on her way back. She reached over and skimmed her fingers down Helena’s back. Helena straightened up in response, nearly pulling away. Myka frowned. She tugged on the waistband of the shorts Helena wore. “Get in bed. You sound exhausted.”

Helena complied, slipping under the covers. Myka shuffled back to her own side as Helena sank down into the bed, sighing contentedly. Myka smiled. She knew that tired, relieved sigh so well, had uttered one of her own so many times. The feeling of being back in her own bed after spending days in a hotel bed or just travelling was one of her favourite feelings. Nothing felt more comfortable or comforting than finally being back in your own bed. 

Myka reached across and laid her hand on Helena’s rigid arm. “Hey,” she whispered and shuffled closer. She leaned over Helena to kiss her softly. Something felt wrong, something more than simple fatigue from travelling. There was a tension to her jaw, a tight trembling to her lips as they pushed up against Myka’s. “What’s wrong?”

Helena shook her head. She pulled at Myka’s curls with her fingertips. “In the morning? Please?”

“Technically it is the morning.”

“Myka,” Helena whined.

Myka sighed. “Alright. The morning.” She kissed Helena again, because it had been nearly a week since she’d last kissed her and that was way too long, and moved back to her own, now much cooler, side of the bed. 

She lay still for a moment and listened to Helena breathe. It was difficult not to feel a little dejected. Nearly an entire week without seeing each other and this was how Helena acted? Given the time of night she hadn’t exactly been expecting Helena to throw herself into her arms but something a little warmer would have been appreciated. It wasn’t so long ago that it wouldn’t have mattered how tired either of them were, they would have just thrown themselves into one another.

Helena only remained still for a moment. She lifted herself up and turned heavily to her side, a beat later she huffed and rolled to lie on her back again, jostling the bed. She bunched her arms under her pillows and lifted herself again, and rolled again, fidgeting, dropping herself down on the mattress and resettling herself.

Myka stared up at the ceiling. No warm greeting, no overt display of passion, no real affection to speak of, and now she apparently was going to be denied sleep because Helena was feeling restless.

Helena rolled over towards Myka. Her arm landed heavily across Myka’s stomach and she shuffled up close, butting her head under Myka’s chin, making Myka grunt as she arranged herself, her leg hooked over Myka’s, her arm across her torso and tucked under Myka’s armpit. Her breath tickled Myka’s neck and Myka’s arm was trapped beneath Helena’s body. It was not the most comfortable position to go to sleep in. But Myka held it. Listened to Helena’s breathing as it eased and slowed down, becoming deeper as she relaxed.

Myka’s eyes slid closed. She blinked and stared back up at the ceiling. The rhythm of Helena’s breathing was hypnotic. It lulled her to sleep, her eyes lids becoming heavier with each second. She could feel herself drifting off…  
“I missed you,” Helena whispered into the dark.  
~~~

Myka’s neck popped as she stretched. Her shoulders felt stiff from the awkward tangled position she and Helena had slept in last night. At some point they had more or less shuffled to their own sides of the bed, but Helena had taken Myka’s arm with her, keeping it trapped beneath her body. Now Myka’s arm ached, her fingers tingling painfully as the blood flushed back unrestricted.

She grabbed her glasses from the bedside table and slipped them on, yawning. Helena was still curled up in bed, rolled away from Myka her pale shoulders peeking up from beneath the covers. 

Myka pulled her hair back into a messy bun and exited the room. She padded downstairs to the kitchen, smothering another yawn with her hand as she went.

It was still early, but she could already hear Leena moving about the kitchen. Sometimes Myka wondered if Leena actually slept. It didn’t seem to matter what time Myka got up Leena would always be down in the kitchen first. 

“Good morning, Myka,” she greeted with a smile. “You’re up later than usual.” 

“Morning,” Myka said around another yawn. “I know. Helena and Steve got back last night.”

“I heard.”

“Did they wake you too?”

“They weren’t half as quiet as they would like to think they were,” Leena chuckled.

Myka rubbed her eyes and peered round the kitchen. The table was all set up ready for breakfast with plates and bowls and Pete’s favourite cereal. Given how late they’d arrived home Myka didn’t expect either Steve or Helena to make an appearance. Artie must have been thrilled by their late appearance with the artefact.

“Something smells good.” Myka made her way to the percolator. “And I don’t just mean the coffee.”

“I made croissants.” Leena nodded towards the oven. “They’re just about ready. Why don’t you take a couple up? I assume you and H.G. will be having breakfast in bed.”

“Yeah. I mean if that’s alright.” Myka smiled and resisted the urge to peer into the oven. She wasn’t Pete; she could wait until the croissants were ready. She didn’t actually feel all that hungry but breakfast was the most important meal of the day and Leena’s croissants, weel, anything Leena made really, were amazing so she definitely wasn’t going to miss out on one.

“Of course it is.” Leena pulled out a tray and plate and set them down for Myka. “Claudia’s already been down and taken a coffee back up. I’m going to take her a refill up later. It’ll probably take her at least two cups to wake up enough to be social.”

Myka grinned at that. “You are too good to us, Leena.”

“I know.” Leena set two steaming mugs on the tray. She opened the oven door and the kitchen was flooded with the delicious smell of freshly baked pastry. Leena quickly deposited the croissants onto a waiting wire rack, plucking two off to out on a plate and setting it on the tray next to the steaming mugs.

Myka picked the tray up and held it close so that she could inhale the aroma of her coffee and the rich buttery scent of the croissants. She hummed, pleased, and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Leena reached over to the windowsill and plucked a flower from the vase there. She plopped it down on the tray and smiled. “Perfect.”

“Seriously?”

“She’ll love it. Trust me.”

Myka looked at her sceptically, but Leena only rolled her eyes and shooed her away.

By the time Myka made it to the top of the stairs she could hear Claudia shuffling about in her room and the sound of morning cartoons from Pete’s room. She opened her door with her elbow, awkwardly balancing the tray in her hands and watching the plate slip dangerously close to the edge. She backed through the door and kicked it shut.

“I know you’re awake.” She turned to find that Helena had barely moved from her previous position. She had pulled the covers up over her shoulders, her head poking out from the top. “I’ve got breakfast here.”

Helena rolled over and gave Myka a bleary eyed once over. She pushed herself up, the covers slipping down her front, and stretched and Myka’s gaze flickered over her bare chest appreciatively. 

“Breakfast in bed. That is a rare luxury. Leena allowed this?”

“She did. Actually it was sorta her idea.”

Helena moved her pillows up so she could lay back against them comfortably and then did the same for Myka’s. She patted the bed invitingly and Myka moved across the room. She balanced the tray on one hand and slipped back into bed, resting the tray on her lap.

Helena picked up her mug of tea and cradled it in her hands. She brought it close to her face and inhaled, making a pleased noise. “Thank you.”

“Thank Leena. She made it.” 

“But you brought it.”

Myka smiled. She grabbed her phone and began flicking through the days news, her coffee in hand while Helena picked at one of the croissants on the plate. “How was the retrieval?” She asked, casually, keeping her eyes carefully on her phone screen.

Helena continued to pick at the pastry, leaving flakes of it over the plate and tray, and thankfully not over the bed sheets. “It took longer than anticipated.”

“I am aware of that.”

“These are good. Very good.” Helena broke off another section of croissant and popped it in her mouth. “Is that almond?”

Myka shrugged. “Yes?”

Helena placed the plate back on the tray. She sipped at her tea and cradled the mug in both hands.

“Helena?” Myka prompted, a little sternly. 

“Oh, fine. The artefact is snagged, bagged, and, presumably by now, tagged.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Helena tapped her finger against her mug. “There were… complications.”

“Complications?” Myka looked up. “What does that mean? You’re alright, aren’t you? Is Steve okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then what does ‘complications’ mean?”

“Just that. It means that there were complications.”

Myka exhaled. “Is there a particular reason you’re not telling me what happened?”

“I am telling you what happened, I am just - oh fine!” Her head fell back. “You read the briefing, yes?” Myka nodded. “Well we were right about the artefact being in the possession of a - for lack of a better term - gang. But it turned out that our information was not entirely accurate.”

“It wasn’t?” Myka was starting to have images of Helena and Steve caught up in a violent conflict.

“No. It turned out that this supposed gang of criminals were - well, I suppose they were technically still a gang, but they were not as old or as organised as originally thought. Or quite as involved with criminal activities. They were… younger.”

“Oh.” Myka didn’t know if she liked the sound of this. Helena had been so aloof last night, stiff and distant like something had gone wrong. But now she looked annoyed, almost sheepish, edging towards embarrassed. “How young, exactly?”

Helena mumbled something into her mug of tea.

“What? I didn’t catch that.”

“Eleven. They were eleven.”

“Years old!?” Myka gawked at her. “Are you telling me that you and Steve got the run around from a bunch of kids?”

“They were very clever for their age!”

Myka couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. Cackled really. 

“They were using the artefact as part of their role playing game or whatever it was. Or at least that’s how it started. Then they were using it to pull pranks.”

“What, you couldn’t just get their parents to get it for you?”

“Of course not!” Helena sounded affronted. “That would be snitching.”

“You sound like Pete.”

“I do not.” Helena huffed into her tea. “Besides, the parents were less than helpful. Not a single one of them could believe that their darling ray of sunshine might be anything less than perfect. Those children will grow to be delinquents. Mark my words.”

“Consider them marked.” Myka’s shoulders were shaking with the effort to not collapse into laughter. “I can’t wait to hear Steve’s version.”

Helena’s shoulders slumped. She picked at the croissant again flicking bits of it over the plate. “It’s not funny.”

Myka bumped her shoulder into Helena. “Come on, its a little bit funny.”

Helena just looked grumpy. With her mug of tea held so close to her face it looked like she was actually snorting steam. That just set Myka off laughing again, which in turn made Helena sink down into an adorable sulk.

“Come on, at least you got the artefact. And your here now, no worse for wear.”

“I suppose.”

“Even if you did get outsmarted by a bunch of kids.”

“I suppose you think you would have handled it better.”

“Oh, I know I would have.” 

The beginnings of a smile threatened to pull at the corners of Helena’s mouth. “Yes, well, you would perhaps have had an advantage given your partner.”

She was not wrong there. No one could out kid Pete.

“I think poor Steve might have found it to be the most frustrating retrieval he’s ever been on. They found him very grumpy and were not at all shy about informing him.”

“And what did they say about you?”

Helena eyed Myka, the hint of a smile still teasing at her lips. “Nothing. They didn’t say a thing.”

“I’ll get it out of Steve,” Myka warned. Helena just smiled and sipped at her tea. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Myka said, basking in the radiance of Helena’s smile. “And that your back.”

“As am I. I am especially glad for this charming breakfast.”She reached to the tray and picked up the flower, holding it close to her face so she could inhale its scent.

Myka dropped a kiss to Helena’s shoulder and turned back to her phone, grinning, and feeling like she might actually swell from the warm feeling of happiness swelling in her.

“Are you going to eat that croissant?”

“Hands off it’s mine.”

Helena held the flower against her lips, her brow arched challengingly. The time for quaint charming breakfast was over.


End file.
